“Why don’t you write a book?” came the voice loud and clear. In a hectoring tone, it continued, “You've written more than 800 Medium stories in three years, that’s Moby Dick. Why don’t you pile the pages on top of each other instead of scattering them here and there?”

When you hear a voice, in the silence of 4 AM, is it your mother’s? Dody Gardner, smart as a whip, with a tongue to match, an English major who earned her degree in 1940, didn’t even read books except to her three boys as they were growing up.

But when her spirit tugs, I listen and engage.

“Mom, I’ve thought about this. My writing life is a kind of managed ADHD, the many instead of the few. I write about this, that, and the other because I’m interested in so many things.”

“Shallow instead of deep?”

“Precise instead of wordy.”

Is It Better To Pile Up Or Spread Out? was originally published in The Daily Cuppa on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Recently, while driving on the highway, I noticed several “Take Diversion” boards🚧.

But…

What made me pause ⏸ was the row of little safety cones placed beside them🔺.

I’ve seen them countless times, yet that day I wondered🤔:

Why are they cone-shaped, and
Why are they red?

Turns out, there’s thoughtful design behind them.

The bright red color instantly grabs attention and signals caution.

And…

Their cone shape gives:

• Stability,
• Prevents damage when hit,
• Allows easy stacking for transport, and
• Stays visible from every direction.

It’s fascinating how even a simple safety cone is designed so practically for safety and convenience.

Something I never really thought about until today📝

The Story Behind a Safety Cone was originally published in The Daily Cuppa on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Dr Pepper reminds me of bitter almonds and Calpol, an expired cherry-flavoured local version of DayQuil. I hate it.

After a Thanksgiving potluck, once everyone had taken home what they liked, I was left with cranberry sauce and six unwanted cans of Dr Pepper.

I brought them home and buried them in the pantry alongside other stuff I never intend to consume.

A few weeks later, as my gardener was working through a sweltering Sacramento afternoon, he asked if I had anything to drink.

“Just Dr Pepper,” I apologized.

“I’ll take two, please.” Over cold, slow sips, he shared stories about his life.

Last week, the handyman came over to hang some art.

“Care for some Dr Pepper?” I asked immediately.

His face lit up. “I love Dr Pepper. My wife never lets me drink it. I’ll take two, please.”

Terrible soda makes surprisingly good hospitality.

Terrible Soda For Wonderful People was originally published in The Daily Cuppa on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.